I Don't Dance
by MrsBeilschmidt3
Summary: Adelaide learns that Harry can't dance... and finds that strangely attractive.


The sound of drizzling rain was like a soothing background music that had ever been present in Adelaide Stratton's life. As she brewed her five o'clock kettle of tea, she danced a little like she used to when…she swallowed. Benjamin was never who she thought he was, and besides, he was gone now. She had seen to that herself. But every day at five she half-expected him to be there; not really him but the man he let her believe he was. And he would surprise her by hugging her belly from behind, kissing her neck gently and asking if he could have a dance. And either to the sound of the rain or the records he would play, they forgot everything else and just danced. Now, she danced with the ghost of the most wonderful and deceitful part of her past.

A knock on the door, urgent and harsh, interrupted Adelaide's silent reverie. She took the kettle off the stove and looked out the window to see a familiar short, lanky man with wild curls. Opening the door, she instantly helped him inside and hung his coat on the rack, sitting him on the sofa. "Houdini! What are you doing here?"

"Come on, can't we be on a first name basis yet?" The American shivered a little and Adelaide began preparing him a cup of tea. "I was headed home and got caught in a rainstorm, and in case you didn't know doing shows with pneumonia has never been a pleasant experience for me."

"Glad to see you're being careful for once." She pressed the hot cup in his hands and brought him a small towel. "Dry your hair, then…Harry."

He smiled at her use of his first name- or, at least, his "stage" name- and rolled his eyes. "Fine, mom." He ran his hair through the towel and sniffled, having lost his own mother recently. And if anybody helped him feel better, it was Adelaide. But it wasn't just comfort he came to her for…being "caught in the storm" was a lie and they both knew it, it had been raining all day. He had made his feelings for her clear, he was just waiting for a sign.

Adelaide chuckled softly. "I really admire your tenacity, you know that? How long did you stand in the rain before you knocked on my door?"

Harry shrugged and sipped his tea. "Lost track of time, honestly. Long enough to watch you do that cute little dance all by yourself."

Adelaide felt her cheeks grow warm and gasped. "Y-you saw me dancing?"

Harry smirked lightly and had another sip of tea. "You dance very well, actually. Of course, I'm an American who really has no knowledge on the subject."

Adelaide raised a brow. "Oh? I'm sure you've danced before." She sat down beside him, eyeing him curiously. She could detect a faint blush on decorating his cheekbones and realized he really hadn't.

"Well I've had a couple girls bravely let me step on their feet and _call_ it dancing, but that's been the extent of it. I guess I never really bothered to learn." He frowned, wondering if this made him fall short of being her perfect romantic gentleman like that ass Benjamin had pretended to be.

Adelaide, however, found his inexperience strangely attractive. All her life men would try to impress her in the ballroom and patronize her as if the dance was _her_ honor rather than theirs. But with Houdini, she could be the one to teach him, to guide his hands and feet to whichever reason she chose. It wasn't just empowering, it was romantic. As she saw the flush in his cheeks grow more prominent she realized she liked this more vulnerable, less cocky side to him. Something about the unusual innocence in his eyes appealed to her, like she could be the one to take care of him when men always wanted it the other way around.

"You know…all you need is some proper instruction," she pointed out, walking over to the phonograph placed on a table near the door and turning on a soft, slow tune. She smiled and bent down boldly to take his hands, bringing him to his feet.

Harry laid his teacup on the coffee table and sighed, running his fingers through his dark curls. "Looks like I don't have a choice." He licked the inside of his cheek and fidgeted with his hands a little, clearly nervous about looking clumsy in front of Adelaide.

Adelaide chuckled, amused and attracted to this rare and unexpected side to the illusionist. "You're the great Houdini," she reminded him, "If you can escape from a straight jacket or a Chinese water torture cell you do a simple dance."

She took his left hand, feeling herself blushing more than she cared to admit as she placed it high on the side of her waist and took his other hand. She interlaced her fingers with his and noticed how much she liked the way his hands felt. They were strong, but not rough, gentle and smooth. More so than she would have expected for a man who performed such arduous stunts.

She looked up and noticed he was smiling at her, smiling like she might at a perfect rose or a sunset on the beach in Brighton. She tried to bite her lip but only ended up grinning broadly as well, slowly sidestepping and watching him follow. He was light on his feet and seemed to be picking up quite easily, but his steps were nervous and she could tell he was trying to perform well for her.

"Dammit." Harry lost his footing for a moment and nearly stepped down on Adelaide's toe. "Sorry." He winced and once again she saw the ruddiness flash across his cheekbones. She smiled and shook her head. "It's fine, you're doing very well, actually."

She could feel how fast the pulse in his wrist was through his shirt and felt herself blush again. He was more taken with her than she first realized…and maybe she was more taken with him than she first thought as well. Maybe it was time, she thought. It had been several months since that terrible night on the ship when she had shot Benjamin, and she was sick of mourning a man who'd lied to her for years. When right in front of her was a man who was honestly willing to love her.

"You know," Harry remarked as they continued, still closely watching her to copy her steps, "I never thought I was the dancing type until…until I met you." There it was, the full confession. Since they met he had been bold in his pursuit of her, but for the first time he was opening up with no restraints, sharing his heart with her. He loved her.

Adelaide found her voice after being completely speechless hearing him. "I…I'm glad you did." She leaned in and ran a thumb along his warm, blushing cheek, and he took both hands and gently caressed her face before kissing her, softly and tenderly until their song ended.

A few moments passed after the kiss and Harry coughed as if he'd lost his voice and was trying to find it again. "I was wondering if you'd like to go out to dinner with me tomorrow night…and then maybe we could go dancing?" He smiled and tilted his head, his curls bouncing as he did.

Adelaide felt her own heartbeat speed up and she took both his hands, feeling like a giggling girl again like she'd been when she first met Benjamin…except this time, it was no lie. "I would love that." She smiled up at him, taking the time to try and silently count all the colors in his eyes.

Harry grinned. "I better get home for the night…I want to get ready and look my best tomorrow when I pick you up in a horse-drawn carriage." He picked up his drying coat and slung it over his shoulder.

She grinned and shook her head. "Oh, Harry."

"I'm totally serious. I'll be here at six." He paused in the doorway for a moment before taking her slender hand one more time and planting a soft kiss on it. "Thanks…for everything."

She felt her cheeks glow when he kissed her hand and almost wished she could simply freeze the moment forever. But she was just as excited about the next evening.


End file.
